Mexico City was for waiting.
When the wait was over, we went.
¡See you, ciudad!
The next leg was to Huatulco.
As we made the turn for our final approach, the Pacific coastline came into view.
I didn’t expect a thatch-roofed airport, but….
Here was a thatch-roofed airport…
Step right this way, meet the taxi driver, and walk to the cab.
Off we went.
The curvy, winding trip to Mazunte was about an hour.
Structures along the roadside ranged from derelict to preposterous.
Next to a brewery was this composition.
There was the fire and ambulance station.
There was the Comedor La Recta.
With a pretty pile of pipas out front.
After a while, we passed the preposterous.
Night fell. The phone camera was not up to the challenge of absorbing enough light, fast enough, to make unblurred photos.
There was one shot that more or less worked, a man standing at a gas station.
We reached Mazunte, climbed 187 steps to our hotel, settled in, went to eat, came back, unpacked, and retired. Below us was the sound of surf, the waves had a period of about fifteen seconds.
I linked the speed of my breathing to the tempo of the swells, and was soon asnore.